Dance with the Devil
by As-Long-As-I'm-Around
Summary: Cal excels in the detection of lies, and he enjoys the game of exposing criminals. Until his next target becomes his daughter, and it's no longer a game and the stakes are much higher. WARNING: mentions of sexual abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I got obsessed with this too late. This wouldn't leave me alone.**

* * *

She ran, even though her legs trembled and threatened to collapse under her weight. She ran, even though each clumsy land of her feet sent aches jarring through her body. She continued to run, because the threat outweighed any amount of pain she was in. The fear of the threat outweighed anything else she could imagine.

Emily Lightman _ran._

She had never particularly excelled in the sport, but tonight, in this moment, she was sure she surpassed any speed record she'd ever made.

 _Just run, stop thinking about it. Just run, just run. Almost home._

She played the mantra over and over again, until she could no longer hear the breathes being pulled out of her by each movement, until she could no longer feel the spasms of aches . The fear became muted as she spotted the familiar trees, the familiar colours of bricks. It was only when she was a couple of houses away that she allowed herself to slow down, to no longer deny her body the break and oxygen it was asking for. Emily turned her head, her eyes moving in sync with her body as she spun around. Every branch that moved in the night, every chirp or noise from an animal-any noise that was near her was a target, and she looked until she was sure that she was not being pursued, that no one was slinking in the shadows or behind trees and houses. The urge to sink to her knees almost overcame her, but she forced herself to keep moving. She didn't know for sure that she wasn't being watched, and to let her guard down while she was so close to being safe was a foolish thing to do. Besides, she still had the hard task of getting past the best lie detector in the world, and even though it wasn't a threat to her, it still evoked a strong fear.

Emily stopped at her door, and she turned around to do another wide sweep. There was nothing suspicious about the night-but like her father said, that's because there was the darkness to cover it up. You just had to expose it with the light. Emily turned back around and looped her jacket belt around her, tightening it to an almost painful position around her midsection. She reached up to her hat, pulling it down as much as she could and wishing she could just pull it entirely over her face.

Emily dropped her hands and all pretences, before taking a deep breath. She could do this. She was her father's daughter after all, not her mother's. She used this encouragement as an anchor for strength, and reached out with rigid muscles. Her hand fell and grasped onto the doorknob, and she pushed it open wide enough for her to slip inside.

Now-if she could just slip through her father's radar as easy as that.

 **TBC.**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for the reviews-hope I don't disappoint!

* * *

There is a silence about the house that bodes of warning. The lights are low, and the only noises Emily can hear are the murmurs of electronics, her breaths, and footsteps that make the floorboards creak.

She edged towards the staircases, victory in her vision, when she is intercepted. Arms go around her, and as they pull her, there is also a tug in her mind that transports her back to an hour ago. A scream builds in her throat, and releases as her arms flail and legs kick out.

Later, Emily will realize that if she had been in any right mind, then it would have made sense that the only person who could have grabbed her in this household, was her father.

The arms released her quickly, and Emily moved back and flattened herself against the wall, heaving like a frightened animal.

"Whoa, whoa!" Her father's voice rung out loudly- and the familiarity of it swept into Emily and held her above everything else that threatened to consume her.

The tension swept out of her shoulders, and she began to relax into the wall instead of digging herself against it.

"Dad-Christ I-" She breathed out, and her father simply stared at her. She figured that he wasn't attempting to read her reaction because he was too surprised himself from her outburst. She took advantage of that before he _did_ start to begin.

"I, uh-I'm sorry. I just saw a horror movie. Zombies-you know I hate them. What are you doing anyway?" Emily forced herself to keep eye contact, throw in a familiar thing-fear of zombies-to deflect. By the tightening of Cal's eyes, and the slight cock of his head, she could tell he wasn't buying it, but wasn't about to openly call her out on it.

"So you thought then…that I was a zombie, did you?" Cal asked, and waited patiently for his daughter's response. Emily knew that he wasn't asking to be polite-her father usually had a reason for how he projected everything-but instead testing her on some level. So, she fought to subtly hold herself, knowing he would see any movement and calculate it.

Fidgeting usually signaled that someone was either hiding something, or trying to avoid a particular emotion.

"Yeah, I did. Brendon was scaring me the whole way home. Don't think I'll be dating him again. You were right about that one, dad." She started to edge towards the stairs, trying to ignore the fact that Cal was matching her progress, step by step.

"Drop you home, did he?"

"Sure." Emily said, barely glancing at him. The first step was close-surely she could leap for it and then make a run to her bedroom? If she could have a shower, have some time to break down and then collect the pieces and put them back together, than she could do this interrogation.

Her father jumped onto the first step, and Emily pulled up short, staring up at him.

"I didn't hear a car pull up. You know, usually I like to break down these little lies, take my time and watch the person squirm. But not with you. What's going on, Em?" Emily went to fold her arms across her chest, but stopped at the last moment. She was sure her father had seen the slight movement, and instead turned her gaze away.

"Everyone needs their privacy, dad."

"I agree. But not when they are obviously trying to hide something that's far too big for them to handle. Or-not when they were on a date and come home looking the way you do. You did go on a date, didn't you? With this fellow-Brendon?" Emily's lips felt dry, and her tongue darted. She could not stop her teeth biting into them, and she knew her father had seen it too. Before he could tell her exactly what that meant, she stepped up beside him and then attempted to move past him.

"Hey, nuh-uh, darling." He grabbed her gently by the arms and pulled her back, leveling them.

This time, Emily did fold her arms across her chest.

"It just wasn't a great date, okay? I'm just-I'm bummed. Can I please go upstairs?" She refused to meet his eye, and stiffened as he moved even closer to her. She could feel his scrutiny, but it was the proximity that was beginning to frighten her.

This was her dad-this was her favourite person in the world. No one made her feel as safe as Cal did-and yet, just his presence was causing her breathing to accelerate.

"No, you're not bummed. You're _terrified._ " Emily's head shot up, and her eyes narrowed, matching her father's stare.

"Yeah, I told you! That stupid bloody zombie-"

"This type of fear, darling-the way your body stiffens when I come closer, is something I only see in victims that have dealt with forms of abuse. He hurt you, this Brendon?" She could see the anger in her father's eyes, yet his body remained loose.

It was only because Emily knew her father that she could tell he was keeping his anger at bay-but it was going to be a loosing battle.

Emily took a step forwards, ignoring her body's warnings and the screams in her mind as she launched herself at her father, wrapping her arms around him.

"Dad, no, please. You've been wrong before-with people that cloud your judgment. I'm okay. I just liked him and he was an ass. I'm okay, see?" Emily remained in his arms, sinking her face into his collar and breathing in his scent. Eventually her body began to recognize him, and her heart soon matched his. Cal remained quiet, holding her tightly to him and cascading a gentle hand through her hair.

"Maybe so, but I'm not wrong about this." She attempted to pull away, but he held her against him. Emily felt her heart bounce out of sync with her father's, and swallowed. This had been a bad idea. She had attempted to defy his train of thought by hugging him, by showing him she felt safe with closeness. But now, he would be able to feel her panic rather than just read it on her face.

"Struck a nerve there, didn't I?" Emily clenched her hands into his jacket, and bit down hard on her lip.

"Oh, I did alright. What's happened that has you so terrified, and terrified of me finding out darling?"

Emily remained silent, as her heart started to now hammer. Cal paused, and his hold tightened ever so slightly.

"Em?"

As if answering her silent screams of pleas, Cal's phone begin to go off.

Both went still under the new development, and Emily could not help the exhale of relief that escaped her.

"Oh, you think so do you Em?" She knew her father felt her relief. He pulled back, eyes skimming over her face.

Emily tried to look innocent, but by the tightening in her father's face, she knew she hadn't pulled it off.

"I'm not thinking anything, dad. But if someone's calling you at this time of night, then I think you should answer it." She yanked herself out of his grasp and turned towards the kitchen where the phone continued to ring and vibrate.

"In fact, I'll get it for you if you'd like?" she headed in that direction, and smiled as she heard Cal manoeuvre around her.

"Not bloody likely! This isn't over, Emily!" Cal said, pointing a finger at her as he picked up his phone, eyes still on her. Emily simply raised her eyebrows and turned to the stairs.

"Oy, you stay right there!" Cal called to her before he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?"

As he listened, Emily ignored his instructions and flew up the stairs. Cal chased after her while attempting to listen to Torres on the line.

"Yeah bloody fantastic I am. Chasing around a daughter who's lying to me. So get on with it." Cal panted as Emily's door slammed in his face.

"Oy, what did I say about doing that?" Cal yelled, his words going over Torres's.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?" Cal stood still, staring at the door as if he could see through it and through to Emily. He stopped, as Torres's words hit him and cascaded over him like a bucket of cold water.

"Well that's bloody interesting that is."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Probably a bit dark with Emily. I don't think the rating should change or anything but I am giving you a head's up. Please review-I've almost finished this so if I get feedback then I'll update faster. Much love!**

As Cal waits for his daughter to remove herself from the bathroom, he sits against the door, thinking over and over again about his recent interaction with her.

He hadn't been surprised to find her sneaking in, but what had surprised him was that she hadn't been dropped home. He had waited, tracking her every movement to observe her. Even when she was cast in muted darkness, he could still read her.

Cal thinks he would be able to read her anywhere.

She was not holding herself in a way that was a disobedient child trying to sneak back in. Oh yes, she was fearful of waking him up. But not for the reason that one might expect.

How could she even think he'd possibly fall asleep when she was returning home from a date?

Then, when he grabbed her, her mind shut down and her body went into panic mode. This was a protective mechanism-quite similar to the girl he had come across that had different personalities. That is what had triggered RJ. It also gave the other an inhumane strength, and Cal was still smarting from her kicks.

Emily had then flattened herself against the wall-another protective movement. Making yourself small and able to see all, so nothing could sneak up on the person. Cal forced himself to keep going with his list, lest he dwell on why she felt the need to do that. He had to take emotions out of it, and pretend that it wasn't his Emily, wasn't his daughter but somebody else doing this.

He has never been very good at separating these things when it came to Emily.

Next had been the relief when she had realized it was him, before the cover ups and lies spilled out. He could congratulate her on using familiarity in the sentence, but her voice and eyes had given her away.

Cal thinks if he hadn't been what he was, that somehow he would still know when his own daughter was lying to him. He knows her well to be able to pinpoint her expressions and what they mean.

Next came the panic when he called her on her lies. This troubled him deeply. Emily had been scared to tell him things before, but it was never a fear quite like the one he saw her tackling with tonight. She was good, he would give her that. But this fear conquers all at some point, and it breaks you. She was not quite there yet, but give it time and she would be.

It almost surprised him that Emily had thrown herself at him, but then again, he knew that she was only trying to defy his logic and science by doing the opposite. But she had only supported his suspicions by doing that. Even when it had seemed like she had relaxed into the hug, her muscles were stiff and rigid-a clear sign that she was holding herself, and holding her emotions at bay. It had also taken awhile for her heartbeat to match his-another tell-tale sign of panic.

And he had definitely struck a nerve when he came out and said that he didn't believe her. He could tell by the way her heart had then skipped a couple of beats, and how she had clenched his jacket in her hand. Both signs of fear and stabilization.

And also, protection.

Well, he couldn't do a good job protecting her without all the information, could he?

Cal bangs his head against the door in a display of irritation. He can't stop thinking about the possibilities of what has happened, because he has seen a lot of awful, fucked up shit in his life time. If he begins to divulge into that part of his mind, then he would be lost to it and he would be no good to Emily.

The shower turn off, and he slowly rises to his feet.

As he waits for her to change and then emerge, his mind lingers on the conversation he had with Torres.

"I've got a kid here with me. Claims he knows your daughter and needs your help. He's been accused of breaking into houses."

Cal had waited until the shower had started before asking for a name. When Torres had given up that information, the only thing he'd said with a smile in his voice was,

"Bingo."

Bingo, indeed.

* * *

Emily stares at herself in the mirror. She raises a steady hand and wipes the steam away to get a better image. She still looks the same as she did this morning-yet feels as if she is a completely different person.

 _"You're so beautiful. Your skin-perfect, and smooth. Look at this flesh," Fingers trailed down her neck, slipping the jacket off to expose a black tank top underneath. The fingers danced over the straps and then moved easily down her arm._

Emily jerks herself out of the flashback, and looks down at her wrist which she is pinching. Releasing a small gasp, she allows her fingers to fall away from the skin and watches as it slowly eases back into its normal position.

The only difference now, though, is the small, red marks that have been produced by her nails. Emily stares in morbid fascination. All she can think is that her skin didn't look so pretty now.

Before she can fully analyze her actions, she acts on impulse and grabs the small scissors from the second draw. She yanks them out with unnecessary force and holds it over the fading marks.

 _He bobbed his head and pressed his lips against her wrist sweetly, but Emily knew there was no innocence or purity in his actions. She stiffened and tried to pull away, and he gripped on harder, looking up at her with a devilish grin._

Emily can't quite stifle the next gasp that escapes her lips. As she bites down hard on them to stop the trembles, she also opens the scissors up and presses one of the thin blades onto her skin. Transfixed, she draws it along, splitting open her skin and causing blood to run down her hand in a neat line.

"Who's got the perfect skin now? Not me," she mutters, smiling up at herself before continuing.

"Emily!" Her father yells, following with a bang of his fist on the door. Emily drops the scissors, and spins around wide eyed, expecting him to storm in. He couldn't possibly know what she was doing, could he?

She bends down and retrievesthe scissors, placing them behind her toothbrush holder. She drags her sleeves down, first over her left arm which bears three neat cuts, and then the right, which holds two.

"Yeah, what?" She calls back, pulling open the door and meeting her father's intense gaze.

"I got called into work." He says, his eyes roaming her face as he speaks. She knows he is trying to pinpoint her reactions. She turns her head slightly, looking down at his feet.

"With those slippers?" She drags her eyes back up, smiling at him.

"Yes? Maybe. Probably not. I want you to come with me."

She blinks, and he stops.

"What is it?" he presses when she continues to say nothing.

"Well uh-can't you drop me off at mum's? It's late and I-"

"Nah, can't do that. Sorry darling," He brushes her off, his words a hurried, almost blurred mess, but his expression says something else entirely. It is always this way with her father-he comes across as rash and unpredictable, but he always knows what he is doing. This, she has come to learn and both love and hate.

Emily takes a deep breath and releases it.

"Look, dad, any other time I would jump at the chance, but I'm just too tired."

"Well you can sleep on the drive there. I'll even stop for coffee, and you know how I feel about you drinking it." He wags a finger at her and turns around before she has a chance to deny his request or plead for him to take her home.

"Dad," she breathes, taking a small step. He turns back around, meeting her gaze evenly.

"Yes, love?" His eyes search hers as she remains still, and Emily can not help as her fingers move towards the sleeves of her jackets. His eyes trail down, and she halts her movements.

"I, um…okay. Let me just get presentable."

This time he is quiet, and she brushes past him quickly, heading to her drawers.

"We rarely have secrets, Emily. And when we do, sometimes it's too hard to simply ask the other to tell. We dig at the lies until the other crumbles. And even then, we're not careful. We kick what we think is the dirt, when it's pieces of ourselves." Emily stops and stares at him. She often loves hearing her father speak, the way he twists his words with calculating preciseness.

And even in his vulnerability, he still speaks beautifully.

Emily opens and closes her mouth. She wishes she could tell him. But, to tell would be to admit it to herself, and she would rather just pretend that it never happened.

 _It never happened._

"I know dad. But I'm fine, okay? There's nothing to tell. But when something bad does happen, you will know." She looks briefly up at him, hoping that her eyes portray honesty and appreciation, before they drop and she is pulling out clothes, and then slinking past her father on the way back to the bathroom.

She can feel her dad's heavy gaze on her, threatening to drag her down and break her. Cal Lightman's words aren't the only thing that could dig out the truth. No, his gaze give his words a good run for their money in that area.


End file.
